Evil Under Heaven
by frostygossamer
Summary: Castiel puts in an appearance. But he's not up to speed. AU. Seventh in my 'Evil Is As Evil Does' sequence. Wincest relationship.


Summary: Castiel puts in an appearance. But he's not up to speed. AU. Seventh in my 'Evil Is As Evil Does' sequence. Wincest relationship.

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><p>Evil Under Heaven by frostgossamer<p>

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><p>PoV: Dean Winchester, son of John, protector of Sam, killer<p>

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><p>I was driving. It was late. Sam was sleeping in the passenger seat, oblivious to the world. I smiled and squeezed his knee. Sam murmured in his sleep.<p>

This little distraction meant I almost didn't see the slight figure in the road ahead. I swerved violently to avoid it.

With the Impala halted on the edge of the ditch, I leapt from the car, almost expecting the figure to have been a figment of too many hours on the road, or one of those highway phantoms we were always running into.

But no, there was a small scruffy guy, in some sort of raincoat, standing right in the centre of the road. He hadn't moved.

I sprang over and, gripping the guy's arm, dragged him to the side of the highway.

"You tryin' to off yourself of somethin'?", I demanded breathlessly. "Tryin' to damage my car with that sad sack of bones?"

The guy didn't look me in the face. He just stared off into the distance in an odd way. I thought I'd probably got it right.

"I've come to find you, Dean Winchester", he said in a flat monotone.

I dropped his arm and took a step back. I glanced at Sam, still fast asleep in the car, God knows how. I needed to put space between this jackass and my brother.

I turned around deliberately and started to walk up the road. I hoped the nutjob would follow me. After a few paces I turned around to look back, and jumped when I found the guy standing unusually close, his face right up to mine.

"I am an Angel of the Lord", he intoned, gravely. "And I have come to rescue you from Hell."

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><p>PoV: Sam Winchester, lover of Dean, patricide, desperado<p>

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><p>I woke out of a deep sleep, to find the Impala almost in a ditch, and my Dean shooting the breeze with some short dude a few yards further up the road. The guy looked like a bum. I wondered what this was all about.<p>

I opened the passenger door and stepped out onto the tarmac. Dean noticed and gestured for me to stay put. I reached into the car, and grabbed a piece from the glove box, just in case.

After a few minutes Dean turned and walked back to the Impala, gesturing for me to get back inside. He joined me, starting the engine.

"Who was that?", I asked, all curious by now.

I looked for the guy. He was nowhere to be seen.

"Someone", Dean replied, enigmatically. "We'll meet him again later. Right now we gotta find ourselves a motel. I'm beat."

So that's what we did.

I was lying on the bed, eating a slice of pizza, when the dude reappeared, and I mean reappeared. One minute I was alone, and Dean was still in the shower, the next there was a crumpled sad-ass right there in the room with me. He made to open the bathroom door.

"Uh-uh", I warned him. He let go the doorknob, and remained silently and stiffly by the door.

I reasoned he wasn't any sort of human. I slid my hand under Dean's pillow, and brought out his knife.

The guy looked at me kinda wearily, and the knife leapt outta my hand onto the floor. I jumped back, feeling like I'd gotten stung.

"What the Hell are you? And whaddya want?", I demanded. Hearing the commotion, Dean dashed out of the bathroom, hastily zipping up his jeans as he came. He sighed and relaxed when he saw our visitor.

"It's OK, Sammy. It's cool. This guy's an Angel of the Lord. He's not going to do us any harm", he assured me. "He's kinda here to help, apparently."

A couple of hours later.

"So they told you, the Powers That Be or whatever, that I would be in Hell, right now. And you were supposed to dive right in, grab me and haul my ass right outta Satan's grasp, so to speak. Have I got that right?", Dean recapped.

"The guys upstairs sure have their fingers on the pulse", I put in. "Present circs aren't exactly Hell-like. Although we've had our moments."

The angel nodded. "Yes, indeed", he told Dean. "If everything that was foretold about your lives, and the courses they were to follow, had come to pass, you should have been suffering in Hell right now, and your brother, Sam here, should have been tearing his hair out, trying to find a way to get you back home. Oh, and falling under the spell of a gorgeous demon temptress, at the same time."

I smirked. As if.

"So why would I even be in Hell?", Dean asked. "Cos of Sam and me? Our relationship?"

The angel looked confused. "Relationship?", he repeated, as if the word meant completely nada to him.

"Or because of Dad?", I probed further.

The angel shrugged. "Your father was never really one of ours", he stated.

"No, actually", he went on. "It would have been because Sam would be stabbed to death, and you would sell your soul to bring him back to life, because you couldn't bear the thought of losing him."

Dean nodded. "Sounds probable", he admitted, smiling at me. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, Babe."

I knew that.

So that was cleared up. But what were we gonna do with this guy now?

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><p>PoV: Castiel, Angel of the Lord, newbie human<p>

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><p>The Winchesters then engaged in animated conversation. I decided not to eavesdrop, on this occasion.<p>

"You got a name, Fairy Godmother?", Dean enquired.

I processed that question, dismissing the inappropriate sarcasm.

"My name is Castiel", I informed them.

That was the simple pseudonym I had been told to use when communicating with mankind. My real name is, of course, unknowable.

They argued again for a while, then seemed to come to some decision.

"Seein' as you're down here. And seein' as you seem to be kinda at a loose end", Dean began. "Maybe there's somethin' you could do for us?"

I showed interest as best I could. It was my mission to be useful to the Winchesters, after all.

"You see, we're kinda low on funds right now. We barely had cash for this room, and it's not exactly the MGM Grand Hotel, Las Vegas", Sam told me.

I felt uncomfortable. Mammon was a touchy topic in Heaven.

"Indeed?", I asked.

"Am I right you can just ...materialize anywhere, right? Like inside a room? You can just click your heals and you're there, right?", Dean asked.

"Actually, no", I replied. Dean and Sam looked disappointed. "I don't materialize. I fly. I have wings."

"Wings?", Sam asked. "What wings? I don't see any wings."

"They are beyond your level of perception. But, trust me, I have wings", I insisted.

Sam looked doubtful. "But you can just appear inside any place, right? Like you did here just now?"

"Clearly", I replied.

"OK, then", Dean continued. "We need you to go some place and pick up something for us."

I almost sneered. Pick up something! I was a Messenger from God not a Personal Shopper.

"Very well", I agreed anyway. "What do you want me to 'pick up'?"

Sam switched on his laptop and brought up a map reference.

"Here", he said, poking the screen. "Can you 'fly' yourself here and pick us up some paper?"

Before the sentence was out of his mouth, I was there and back. I stacked the pile of bills on the motel room table.

"Enough?", I asked.

Dean and Sam chuckled happily. "Oh, that'll do. For now", Dean laughed.

"I think I'll go now", I told them. "But, before I go, I have a message. We have seen something final on the horizon for you both."

"OK", Dean shrugged. "Don't be a stranger." Whatever that was supposed to mean.

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><p>PoV: Dean Winchester, son of John, protector of Sam, killer<p>

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><p>The next morning Sam and I were laying in bed watching the local news on TV.<p>

The presenter was a good-looking, well-figured blonde in a sharp designer suit.

"Police have retrieved this CCTV footage showing the perpetrator of the daring burglary at the Christian Farmer's National Bank in the city last night", she reported.

They ran the footage. It was pretty poor quality, but the small fuzzy figure of a trench coated bank robber was clearly visible. He appeared, grabbed some cash and vanished, Jumper-style.

"Hope that guy doesn't have a criminal record", Sam said, smirking.

"Sure they're printing up the wanted posters right now", I chuckled.

As I turned over to slip my arms around my Sam, the big heap of money on the bed crinkled deliciously.

The End

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><p>AN: Finally had to get back to this sequence cos I had some remaining ideas keeping me awake.


End file.
